Tradition
by Tamer of Light
Summary: Cooking lessons with the three most important women in Mako's life; mother, lover, daughter. Fluff.


"Dip it gently, Mako. We don't want too much water in it, okay?" Worn hands gently guided his small fingers, ever so slightly grazing the wrap against the bowl of water. Large gold eyes were fascinated by her slow, careful movements, watching as his mother let him drop it on the plate. She smoothed it out the plate, before taking his hands to mimic her.

"_Now_ can we add everything else?" He leaned forward to reach for one of the many plates that littered the counter, his boots climbing onto the top step of the stool he was sitting on to push him closer. A small laugh escaped Michiko's lips as she kneeled to move her son back down to safety.

"Patience, Mako," A warm smile tugged the corners of her lips as she tapped him on the head. "When you cook, you must be able to wait. If you move too quickly, your food won't be as delicious as it could be. Do you know how long your birthday cake took to bake?"

When she saw his head shake, she crouched down to whisper in his ear. "Hours!"

As expected, her son's eyes widened to comical proportions at the knowledge. "Mama!" He shouted all of a sudden, legs tapping eagerly against the wooden stool. "You made something for me that took _hours_?" His dramatic tone made her chuckle as she gathered him up, standing him on the stool.

She pulled out his haphazardly tucked in shirt and folded the collar, before pressing her palms to his little shoulders and smoothing out the invisible wrinkles. Her gaze roamed over him, taking in his curious expression and twiddling thumbs and she felt a layer of liquid blur her vision. "You are my son, of course I did."

Her answer made him lunge into her arms, wrapping her in a warm hug. She could smell the usual tinges of smoke that sprinkled his ebony hair and knew her oldest son had been firebending again. When they separated, Michiko's face adopted a stern look.

"Mako, have you been practicing without Papa again?"

He looked away immediately, lips curling into a pout. She turned his chin back to her and bit back a smile when she saw how he looked torn between disappointment and fear. "I know you want to firebend, but I don't want you doing it without your father watching you." Her fingers combed through his messy locks, brushing away the strands that fell into his eyes.

"What if something bad happens and we aren't around to help you?"

Determination fell on Mako's face as he stared at her, lips folded into a thin line and he crossed his arms. "I would protect me and Bo!"

The vision of her son looking so stubborn and defiant made her heart ache with pride and she tugged him into her arms again, brushing a chaste kiss on the top of his head. "Good answer, Mako."

A few moments later, she straightened up and turned back to the food. "Now, what would you like in your spring roll?"

"Shrimp!" His exclamation was followed by a hand grab for the bowl of shrimp next to him. Reaching over, he drew a fist full and dumped it onto the wrap.

"And…" She stretched the word out, patiently waiting for him to catch on.

Mako let out a sigh and reluctantly said, "Lettuce."

His mother nodded approvingly, ripping the vegetable into strips to place on the wrap. Carefully setting the contents into the wrap, she dabbed splashes of water and rolled it up. After making sure it was properly secure, she handed the wrap to Mako and smiled when he took an enthusiastic bite. "Good?"

"Great!" He chirped in-between mouthfuls, flashing a thumbs up with a toothy grin.

"We're home!" A voice echoed from the other room, bouncing into their range.

Mako leapt off the chair, ignoring his mother's reprimand ("Mako, be careful!") as he raced down the hallway, spring roll clutched in hand.

Only a minute later, she saw her oldest son towing in her husband who was holding their other son in his free arm. "Papa, look what I made!" He held up his half-eaten spring roll, before pointing to the full plate on the counter.

"Really?" Tai Yang's goldenrod eyes widened dramatically as he sat down, before raising his son into his lap next to his slumbering younger brother. "Show me!"

Taking Bolin into her arms, she laughed when Mako scrambled to pull the plate of wraps toward him and proceeded to show his father step by step what his mother had taught him. Tenderly rocking her youngest child, Michiko watched as her husband pretended to mess up his spring roll, before snatching Mako into a bear hug as the boy struggled to get free, cries of laughter falling from his lips.

Settling her snoring earthbender into his bassinet, she turned around and stole the giggling firebender from Tai Yang's grasp, placing him in his seat. "Boys, it's dinner time," Michiko announced with a smile.

* * *

Mako's brow wrinkled when he heard the beginning rumblings of another bout of sneezing from her room and winced when she finally did, feeling the walls tremble from the force of the winds.

He stood in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables. The pot sat on the stove beside him as he worked and every so often, checked on the pot out of the corner of his eye.

Silence reigned as he worked, focusing only on the meal and the task before him, until he heard slight noises outside the door. Straining his ears, Mako wasn't surprised when the door slid open and wrapped in a bundle of blankets, a red-faced Korra pulled herself in with heavy effort.

Quickly setting the knife down, he hurried over to help her into a chair. "Korra!" He admonished, taking care to make sure the blankets were tucked around her body. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Looking for you obviously," Being sick all week had done nothing, but accentuate her dry humor.

"You should be resting."

A cough bubbled out of her throat, leaving her even more worn out and panting as she dropped her head against the wooden table. "And you should be resting with me."

"I'm making you some soup. It'll make you feel better." His back was turned to her, but he could feel her staring at him with interest as he cautiously slid the chopped carrots into the boiling water.

She let out a sigh, feeling the dryness in her mouth more with every word. "You could've just bought me some."

A glass of water was placed in front of her and before she could ask or heave herself upright to drink it, he was already back at the counter. "It's not the same as homemade soup," he retorted, before shuffling through the various spices in the cabinets.

"Soup is soup."

"You're my girlfriend. Of course, I'm making you soup." The finality in his tone made her smile and the butterflies that always swarmed her stomach every time he said _that_ word made her ache for his touch.

"Mako."

"Hm?" Her boyfriend hummed distractedly.

"Come here."

Turning around to look at her, he quirked an eyebrow at her and proceeded to wipe his hands on a towel, before walking to her side. "You beckoned, Avatar Korra?"

Finding a burst of energy from somewhere, arms covered in blankets spontaneously enveloped him in a hug. Her cheek pressing against his, Mako could feel every bit of the heat that glazed her skin and knew she could feel his lips widen into a smile. "I love you," she murmured shyly, ducking her eyes into the crook of his neck.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and each cheek, before reaching her lips.

A finger poked the dimples in his cheeks and she laughed when he playfully swatted it away, sending a mock glare her way. He returned to the stove, casually stirring the spoon as he resumed his search.

The screech of a chair being pushed beside him caught his attention and he saw Korra sitting on it, curiously staring into the pot. "What's in it?"

"Soup, noodles, and vegetables," he replied.

Korra glanced at him, before digging out a spoon from a drawer. She was about to dip it in, when his hand covered hers and lifted it away. "I'm not done yet," he said, chuckling at her pout.

"Where did you learn how to cook?"

"Before she -" he cleared his throat, feeling her fingers lace through his. "Before she died, my mom used to teach me something new every day."

"And you remembered everything?" She asked, amazed.

His shoulders rolled into a shrug. "That was our time together. She taught me everything. That's how we survived in the streets," His voice started to break ever so slightly and he strained to continue. Wisps of liquid formed at the corner of his eyes. "Whatever food we could find, I tried to make it into something special, so that every time we ate... No matter how cold or scary it was, my mom was always there with us. I didn't want her to fade into nothing, but a memory of the past."

Korra's grip tightened and he exhaled a shaky breath, before meeting her eyes. He gave her a tense smile, before turning back to the pot. "Teach me."

Mako reached for the spice he had been looking for, brushing his thumb over the label. "Teach you what?"

"Teach me how to cook." Her words made him pause, before his head swerved to stare at her. Korra, his Korra who was seemingly halfway to dying with the way she coughed and sneezed and groaned, was staring right back at him with a tender smile.

And as he showed her what he had done so far, she casually said. "Someday, we can teach our kids what your mom taught you."

* * *

"Daddy," A voice from below dragged out the word with an annoyed tone. "Let me do it!" Tiny fingers curled around the hem of his shirt, tugging on it anxiously.

Mako laughed and crouched down to meet his daughter at eye level. "Are you sure you can do it?" An enthusiastic nod. "You know it's for Mommy's birthday. We can't mess it up." Another eager nod.

Boosting her onto the counter, he pulled out a wooden spoon from a drawer. Holding her hand around it, he slowly began to blend, before letting her do it alone. "Keep stirring and tell me when you can't do it anymore, okay?" Of course, he could tell that she barely heard him as she nodded absentmindedly, focusing all her attention into mixing the ingredients together.

He leaned against the counter, casually scanning the kitchen, before turning back to her. She had started out with excitement, twirling the spoon faster than she could keep up with, but gradually, he noticed with amusement, that she was starting to slow down, the lack of energy deflating her small form.

"This is taking _forever_," her dramatic words were further emphasized when she brushed her forehead with the back of her hand, puffing out a heavy sigh. Mako had a feeling that his daughter had clearly picked up more than just looks from a certain wife of his.

"Patience, Michi," he chided, his finger tapping her nose, smiling when she scrunched her nose. "We want the best for Mommy, right?" At her noise of agreement, he held her hand and they started to stir together again.

"Sometimes you have to wait for good things." He murmured, before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

He turned around to open the oven and carefully pulled out the cake. Setting it on the counter next to his daughter, he wasn't surprised to hear her squeal after. "It looks so good!" She cheered, clapping her hands and swinging her feet back and forth against the wood.

Aquamarine eyes stared into the brown cake as if it was the greatest thing she had ever seen. She hovered over the cake, sniffing it tentatively, before letting out a pleased sigh. He chuckled, tugging on one of her dark locks. "Are you done with your very important job, Miss Michi?"

An adorable pout graced her lips, tickling his heartstrings at the sight. She was far too much like her mother. "No," she reluctantly shook her head, before turning back to her task.

"Do you want me to do it?"

Michi seemed to light up at her father's suggestion, readily pushing the bowl into his hands. He laughed and stirred it until a soft brown color formed. Dipping a spoon into the bowl, he tasted it, before checking on her. She was poking the cake, grinning to herself as she traced the letters of her mother's name.

Mako held out the spoon in front of her and saw her look at it curiously. "Think she'll like this?"

Her tongue grazed the tip of the spoon and she nodded immediately, before licking her lips and reaching for the spoon. "No, Michi, I have to frost the cake." At her disappointed expression, he tilted her chin up and made a show of pretending to check if anyone was listening in. "But you can have some when I'm done." She beamed, seemingly appeased and sat back down to wait.

"Are you going to make me a cake for my birthday too?"

"Of course I will," he pointed out the spoon, letting her sneak a lick. "You're my daughter. I'll make you one every year until you're tired of my cakes."

"Daddy," The surprising firmness in her tone made him look up. "I'll always love your cakes." A fond smile touched his lips as he kissed her soft, round cheeks.

"That's my girl."

Carefully rotating the cake on its stand, he swirled and applied a layer of frosting, occasionally smoothing out the spots where there was too much or too little. For a few minutes, there was an odd silence in the kitchen as his usually hyperactive only child watched her father with rapt interest. When he was finally done, he gave the frosting-covered spoon to her and grabbed a tube lying nearby.

"Do you want to help me write it?" Mako eyed the cake, before looking over at her. He bit back a smirk as his gaze drew in the state his little girl was in. In a matter of minutes, Michi had somehow covered herself in chocolate frosting. It was smeared all over her lips and cheeks and dripped from her fingers as she licked the spoon, blissfully unaware of the sloppy mess. Brown stained the pale blue of her dress and he tried not to laugh as he wiped her face.

"Okay," he swiftly announced, plucking the spoon out of her grasp and ignoring her indignant shout. "I think that's enough sugar for you." He shook a finger when she made a move to reach again. "We both remember what happened the last time Uncle Bo gave you too much ice cream, right?"

The little girl's lower lip jutted out and she crossed her arms, eyes averting to the side. "Yes, daddy," she dragged the words out with a sigh. Unconsciously, he snuck a glance at the scorch marks in the corner and he shook his head, smiling at the memory.

"Now do you want to help me write on the cake?" Mako held the cake up to her and chuckled when she sprung off the counter onto the floor.

He set the cake on the table and lifted Michi onto the chair. Holding her hands between his, they carefully spelled out the letters, voicing each one out loud as they went.

"M-O-M-M-Y" His daughter repeated, pointing out each letter again to her father.

The sound of a jiggling door knob had both of them perking up at the sound. When there was a creak of opening and closing, Mako waited for her to come through.

"I'm home!" And sure enough, the corners of his lips pulled up and excitement hummed in the air.

"My fair lady Koko!" Another voice boomed, stretching out the last syllable until Michi could no longer hold in her giggles and she shot off the chair and down the hall. The intertwining shrieks of laughter from his family bounded into his heart, tucking deep inside and a rush of warmth flooded him.

Korra blew into the kitchen in a whirlwind of loud noises and chatter as she spoke to Bolin, her hand gestures dramatic for the benefit of their daughter who sat on top of his brother's shoulders, covering her uncle's eyes as she directed him where to go.

"Hey," She wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest.

Burying his face into soft brown strands, he breathed her in. "Korra."

"Did you guys make this for me?" Azure eyes glittered with tears when she spotted the cake, sounding breathless and overwhelmed. A finger casually swiped at the frosting and she grinned at the taste.

"Mommy! I helped!" Their daughter waved both arms back and forth, jostling her small wolf tails and nearly bouncing off Bolin's shoulders.

His wife swept her into her arms and sat down in front of the cake, cuddling her into her side. "I'm so proud, Michiko! How long did it take you?"

"_Hours!"_ Michiko shouted, her hands flying apart to show a wide distance.

And as Bolin led his niece into a birthday song for Korra, he lit the candles and watched as the sunset hues lit up her face, adding to the glow of joy already present.

"Happy birthday, Korra," he said, holding her smiling gaze during the final chorus.

* * *

**Notes: **I got this idea in the middle of writing this that while Mako looks like their father (firebender) and Bolin looks like their mother (earthbender), Mako is most like her and Bolin like him.

Michiko (Japanese): Beauty, Wisdom

Tai Yang (Chinese): Sun

Michi is most like her mother, but she's a firebender like him and she's a daddy's girl. We know Mako keeps the scarf for his father, but I love the idea that cooking is what connects him to the women in his life: his mother, Korra and their daughter. His father's memory (scarf) protected them and his mother's memory (cooking) made them survivors.


End file.
